


The Horror

by Tamatoa



Category: Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Extended Scene, Hallucinations, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamatoa/pseuds/Tamatoa
Summary: There’s no escaping the heart of darkness after letting it sit heavy in one’s lungs and rot until it becomes hollow at the core.





	The Horror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaTerraNova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaTerraNova/gifts).



Darkness always fell so suddenly in the Congo. Something to do with the canopy of leaves and tangled vines that painted sunlight into emeralds on a glass-smooth river, sunsets like fire below the deck... Whatever the reason, Kurtz drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, then woke abruptly to find himself in total darkness. He spoke into the stifling, empty air. Better to speak to no one than to mistakenly think himself alone. “Where are we?” 

“You’re awake.” Both were momentarily blinded as Marlow lit a candle, the flame oppressive in such complete darkness. “We’re going home.”

“Not my home,” Kurtz sighed, shifting to a more comfortable position. “There’s nothing left for me in that place.”

An uncomfortable silence settled around them, and Marlow made as if to stand. “I should let the others know—“

“No, don’t leave me!” Kurtz grabbed Marlow’s wrist desperately, feeling more vulnerable and alone than he thought himself capable of. “Just stay a little longer. Please.” 

Marlow didn’t resist as he was pulled closer, let himself be moved and placed as if to appease Kurtz’s wishes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, tensing up a little as Kurtz wrapped both arms around his waist from behind. “Why are you—“

“Quiet.” Kurtz let one hand slip under Marlow’s shirt, ignoring the unconscious shudder in favor of digging sharp nails into his ribs. “I can’t hear myself think with you going on like this. Like you always do.” 

“What?”

The suddenly unfamiliar voice shocked Kurtz back to reality. “Where’s Vitaly? He should have come to see me, at least. Does he think that this time I’m too far gone to save?” Kurtz stood and begin to pace the cabin like a caged tiger. 

“Oh. I know who you’re talking about now.” Marlow spoke more to himself than to Kurtz. “I almost thought that I had imagined meeting him. He left before we did, went off on his own—“

“No. No, you can’t have left him behind. Not here, you don’t understand,” an edge of real panic crept into his voice, surprising both of them, as if to turn the boat around by sheer force of will, “They’ll kill him.” 

“That’s what he was afraid of. He left to escape.”

“No, it really wasn’t.” Kurtz sat back down, stared off into space for a moment as if looking out a window, then was pulled back to reality. He glanced over at Marlow as if surprised to see him still there. “I suppose it’s fitting, that we should be separated again. Years turned into centuries- he used to say that talking with me, the nights seemed to not last an hour, but to me it seemed that he and I were all that existed of the world and that time was merely an illusion- and that place was so much less lonely with someone to listen.” 

“So that’s what he was to you.”

“Someone to listen... to pass the time.” “Anything I wanted him to be, really. Deliciously pliant. You can make your own assumptions, that’s what all the men at the Station did. Besides, I can’t remember half of it.” 

“What’s the half that you do remember? Talking of love?”

“You’re prying.” Kurtz eyed Marlow’s expression, as if daring him to make some comment. “Yes, talking of love. Among other things.” He looked Marlow up and down, almost nonchalant, appraising. “You’re nothing like him. Too many questions. You could be anyone, I don’t care. I am curious, though. Why come all this way, why bring me back with you, why stay to listen to the ravings of the half-dead?” A long moment passed, Kurtz’s unblinking gaze becoming more snakelike with every second. “I wonder,” he purred, loosening his grip on Marlow’s wrists to rub slow circles over his pulse points, “Is there something else you want from me? You want to be what Vitya was? Obsession is a dangerous game, Charlie Marlow.”

“I’m not obsessed with you. I used to be, but when I met you, I found myself entirely disappointed.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Marlow regretted them.

“Then why are you still here?” Kurtz’s voice dropped to a growl, dripping with frustration and venom. “I’m weak. Pull away. You could even hurt me, if you’d like to. How about it? I am lying here in the dark waiting for death, you might as well make it worthwhile.”

“No,” Marlow breathed more than spoke the word, looked into Kurtz’s eyes like he had more to say on the matter, then glanced down at their hands. “I couldn’t. You’re—“ 

“Liar! Everyone would. Deep inside, all of us wish that we could tear apart the ones who have hurt us- or inconvenienced us, or disappointed us, it doesn’t matter- and I’m letting you.” He tightened his grip to bruising again, feeling a frenzied, exhilarating pulse like a trapped bird, not knowing if it was Marlow’s or his own. Not caring. “Do what you want with me. Anything. I’m all yours.” 

The heartbeat gave another little jump. Marlow twisted one hand around to hold Kurtz’s wrist, then seemed to catch himself. “I’m leaving.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re holding my hand so tightly it’s as if you’re afraid I might fade away into nothing. That’s funny, to have switched positions like this. Why don’t you lie down, and we can be mad men together?” He reached his free hand up to trail along Marlow’s jawline, then leaned in for a kiss. At the first touch of their lips, he noticed the cold. Like Death coming to claim his soul— or his own fever dreaming up another reason to lick into Marlow’s mouth; either way he sought it out. Every point of contact between them brought more chill relief, save the side facing the candle. He reached out blindly to put it out, burning his fingers and leaving them in darkness again. 

Marlow broke away, looking at Kurtz with an unreadable, slightly shaken expression neither of them could see, then shoved him back down on the bed. He kept one hand on Kurtz’s chest as a sort of halfhearted restraint. “Go to sleep. You’re burning up.”

Kurtz relaxed into the touch and gave a contented sigh. Sleep seemed welcoming in this bed, rather than another harsh unknown like everything else in the jungle. “It’s thoughtful of you to leave your hand there like that. If my heart stops, tell me. I’m the only one who would care.” 

“You’re really not.” 

“Are you saying you’d miss me? I thought that I had disappointed you.”

“You weren’t at all what I expected, but I don’t hate you as much as you seem to think I do.”

“You’re still a liar. Not your fault. It’s the way life is. Some people might say they care, but they’re all liars. Every one of them is hollow at the core, only looking out for himself. That’s the deep, dark shame of man— the root of all the things we hide— the horror of our existence.” He curled in on himself, holding Marlow’s hand closer to his chest. “The horror.” 

“I’m sorry.” They remained like that for what seemed like hours. When it looked as if Kurtz had fallen asleep, Marlow tried to pull his hand away only for the grip to tighten again. 

Kurtz’s eyes opened, unfocused and fearful, as if sensing some dark omen. “Don’t leave me here. They’ve abandoned me, all of them— except you. Penelope... no,” one last breath let slip a single word, “Vitya.”

 

“It’s stopped.” 

 

It was only later, when Marlow was sitting out on the deck, that he even remembered what he had done by leaving Kurtz alone. 

The cabin boy stuck his head around the corner. “Mistah Kurtz— he dead.” He stated it as simply and thoughtlessly as if he were reminding the crew of a meal time, and everyone else on deck followed him back towards the cabin to see for themselves. 

That morbid curiosity, nothing like caring— Kurtz was right. Men’s hearts held only shame, selfishness, and never ending darkness. 

The horror.

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re new here lmk why you’re reading heart of darkness fic in the comments! Love new people!


End file.
